WESSEX
Wessex is very, very late. And she feels very, very, bad about it, especially considering Cera's personal invitation. It was a kind thought and the Queen does try to make an effort to reward, or rather, appear for the personal requests that are few and far between. At least her excuse is legitimate: I'm late because I was busy convalescent from opening a portal in the Mathair, I mean… "Meeting with the Fae." And none of the Fae survived, but that's neither here nor there. So, in an effort to 'blend in' (ha!), the Ascended woman slowly opens to door to the back of the lecture hall and slips in, closing th door as quietly as she can. The plan is to observe, to be a shadow and nothing more - no voice of objection or praise - just to see what this young man is made of.
She watches as people are divided up into pairs, and then goes over the way she used to see herself up in her head. And then Wessex wonders if she would even need to, or if the fluid would simply stop flowing, would her nanites knit themselves together in time? A small frown of reflection crosses her face. How similar is she to her old self? And how different?
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
